Trump Hate Feat Riddlore

from Collect & Action by LRS

	/

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lyrics

Damn the cuivre,
don't you stand so close to the bell
Mag-nificent far as you can tell dagnabit this habit of pulling both
rabbits and hats

Roast the bell
Pepper on the beat hotstepper left feet
times two time peat

And repeat, so you can savage the average level of the cell
Paused rebel with a -well-

Cell as in par-ticle
Single to whole
mingle with roll don't rock hard ripple

Not soft as drink tho
Grand ultimate fist
Magnetic and ultra as this

Insult to the mix
Volts with a switch
Don't vulture the b*tch no cause for the twitch

Wait,
main cause of the twitch is appalling
Mister Hit's a blister pinched and falling

Squeeze play like collector's vinyl Select b side of the reel but Rewind it

back to the strangest of sources
Rearranged forces endorsed by the coarsest of courses

More than endorphins to morph into Forbes
Prefering forest to the hoarseness and boring

Made a cult and a hit
culture the stitch
Pitch in time got a Molt for the fix

Like Chavo, but he rocks an L
Top the tell
with a secret to smell
Seek with the belle
frown with the ugly
↔To sound disgusting's
(hard) work for the shell

Couldn't achieve it, even if natural...
True Art o-fficial believe it
(But) missing some pieces
Mysteries moved and indecently hidden like truth till we free it

Dark but light hearted and kissing the creases
Dip with low (but)
end up dissing the thesis

Formula but five, forming the beat
Get pouring to speak
before the Mormons would tweet

Relax, you're tense refer to the text if it don't make sense
We prefer that you're bent

So defer to the length of intoxicating sounds that are served and they're sent we prefer on the strength

That you blur out the words that infer how the world's
Not ready for (the) service we serving in tens

Too often the food that we lost is the clue to the cost of the duel with a cough and a brew
Control what the damage can manage to vanish
The panic sets in like the last in Atlantis
The pasture is tainted but pastors say magic's a matter of chapters to grasp in your cabbage
Your cavern is empty but matters of simply restocking the count brings data to envy
The ladder is plenty but latter days empty
Same as it ever was back in the century
That passed like an Indy,
car on a bend
throws g's like the force of a star with a spin
That courses thru veins open wide intending to hide what the pulse brings right to your endings
Nerves keep sending
reverb to your senses, the tensest of sentences burst like their pending

Reverse (is) impossible (this) earth (is) a hostile pool of hurt till you gossip from the perch they prosper from
You are dirt.
With a spark and a mark that's an art with a worth
And you heard it here first.
Now reverse.